Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under The Amazon

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Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under The Amazon Page 15

by Stanley R. Matthews


  CHAPTER XV.

  PARA.

  Ensign Glennie was a happy man. In that blissful moment, when he washugging his dispatches, he wanted to be friends with everybody, andwould have shaken hands as rapturously with Dick and Carl as he didwith Matt.

  "Before you do too much rejoicing, Glennie," said Matt, "you'd betterfirst examine the envelope, and see if it has been tampered with."

  An examination showed the seal to be intact.

  "I don't believe Tolo had any right to tamper with it," said Glennie."What I mean is, that those other Sons of the Rising Sun who areleading the expedition against the _Grampus_, would probably demandthat they be allowed to open the dispatches with their own hands. Tolodidn't have time to see the others of the Young Samurai between thetime he left La Guayra and the time he presented himself to me, in ther?le of Ah Sin, on board the _Grampus_."

  "Ah Sin!" commented Carl. "I nefer t'ought vat a goot name dot vas forder feller. Ven he dook dot he dook der vone vat fitted."

  "We can begin to understand, too," spoke up Dick, "why he never tookoff that old hat. He kept it on so the letter wouldn't get away fromhim."

  "And so that we wouldn't see him without the queue," added Matt. "If hehad removed the hat, Dick, he would have been recognized."

  "By Jove, fellows!" said Glennie, "I'd like to do something tocelebrate."

  "Ain't you fellows getting hungry?" called Speake through thetorpedo-room tube. "I'll jump in and scrape together a meal, if you sayso. I reckon we can all get a square feed in Para, in the mornin'."

  "Get us something, Speake," answered Matt. "That's the way we'llcelebrate, Glennie," he added to the ensign.

  "It's the biggest streak of luck I ever had in my life!" declaredGlennie. "And you brought it to me, Matt!"

  "Dot's vat I say," cried Carl. "Anypody vat dravels mit Modor Matt isspound to haf some oof der luck vat comes py him. I know, pecause I havehat id meinseluf. Ain'd dot so, Tick?"

  "Luck hands around her favors to everybody that ships with Matt,matey," agreed Dick. "It don't make any difference whether they'reentitled to the favors or not, they get 'em."

  This last remark may have been a bit of a slap at Glennie, but theensign was too happy to notice it.

  "What gave you the notion of looking into that hat, Matt?" inquiredGlennie. "I'd have thrown it overboard to get it out of the way."

  "Why, Glennie," answered Matt, "you and Carl both saw what I did, andspoke about it."

  Carl and the ensign exchanged astonished glances.

  "Now you haf got me some more, Matt," said Carl. "Vat's der answer?"

  "Didn't the prisoner seem to wake up and brighten perceptibly a littlewhile ago?"

  "Yah, I rememper dot."

  "So do I."

  "Well, he did it when I threw the hat out of the locker. His eyesfollowed it as it flew across the room, and they rested on it as itlay on the floor. I read a good deal of concern in that glance--moreconcern, in fact, than the old headgear and the attached queue calledfor. There could be but one thing to make Tolo act like that, and Ifigured that he had put the envelope in there. It's not a new place forhiding things, boys. Lots of people, out in the Western part of theUnited States, stow valuable things away in their sombreros."

  "Nod me any more," wailed Carl. "Subbose I hat peen foolish enoughto pud my money in dot cap oof mine? Den vat? Id vould now be in derpottom oof der ocean. Dalk aboudt your glose shafes! Vy, dot Chapfeller vat looked like a safage, sent dot shpear so near my headt dothe dook a lock oof hair along mit der cap. I don'd like dot. Shpearsiss pad pitzness. Vat for dit der Chaps use shpears ven refolfers ishandtier?"

  "They were playing a part, Carl," said Matt, "and whenever a Jap playsa part he does it well. If Tolo and those with him had had firearmsthey would have been playing out of their character."

  "Dey don'd got mooch character to be oudt oof, anyvay. Dey hat bombs,und safages don't haf dose."

  "The bombs weren't in sight."

  A few minutes later Speake came up with the supper. After the meal wasout of the way, Speake took Dick's place at the wheel in order to givehim a chance to rest, and later assume Gaines' place at the motor. Carlwent down to give Clackett a rest, and Matt stretched out on the locker.

  It was midnight when the _Grampus_ rounded Cape Magoari and turned intothe Para arm of the Amazon. The port of Para was seventy-five miles upthe river, and Matt decided to submerge the _Grampus_, pass the restof the night on the river bottom, and then ascend to the town withdaylight to help.

  This arrangement enabled all hands to sleep, and morning found thesubmarine's complement fresh and ready for whatever fate held in store.

  The ascent of the river was made on the surface of the stream, withall who could be spared on deck, searching the shipping with carefuleyes. Matt and his friends were looking for the mysterious steamer thatcarried the fighting contingent of the Sons of the Rising Sun, and werevastly relieved when they failed to sight the vessel.

  It was nearly noon when the red roofs of Para came into view. Theriver, opposite the town, was about twenty miles wide, but so cut upwith islands that the steamer with the black funnel and the red bandmight have lain among them and so escaped observation. However, Mattand his companions chose to think that the Young Samurai were toodiscreet to make them any trouble in a peaceable port.

  The _Grampus_ was moored alongside a wharf, and a gayly uniformedharbor official came aboard to learn the submarine's business, and tofind whether there was any need of a customs inspector. The sight ofGlennie, and his declaration that the boat had merely put in at theport to give some of her crew a chance to pay their respects to Mr.Brigham, the United States consul, was enough.

  Matt, although he fancied the boat secure, did not intend taking anychances. Dick, Carl, and Speake were to be left aboard as an anchorwatch, while Matt and Glennie called on the consul, and Gaines andClackett whiled away a few hours in the river metropolis. The prisonerwas to be left in the steel room until the consul should advise whathad better be done with him.

  Consul Brigham, Matt and Glennie quickly learned, lived on the finestavenue in Para--the Estrada de Sao Jos?. Through this thoroughfarebordered with a colonnade of royal palms, Matt and Glennie were drivenon their way to the consulate.

  In the office of the consulate was a gentleman in shirt sleeves andwhite duck trousers. His feet were elevated on the top of a table, andhe was trying to keep himself cool with an immense palm-leaf fan.

  The sight of a United States naval uniform brought the consul to hisfeet immediately.

  "Mr. Brigham?" asked Glennie.

  "What's left of him, my dear sir," was the answer. "I've meltedconsiderably during this spell of hot weather. You'd naturally thinkthe trade winds, which blow continually in this section, would temperthe air. But trade winds, my dear sir, are not what they're cracked upto be."

  Glennie introduced himself, and then presented Matt. Mr. Brigham smiledexpansively, and drew a bandanna handkerchief over his perspiring brow.

  "I've been expecting the pair of you," he announced, shaking each bythe hand.

  "Expecting us?" queried Glennie, astonished.

  "Sure. Read that."

  The consul tucked a cablegram into Glennie's fingers. It had come fromBelize, and was signed by the captain of the _Seminole_. Glennie readit aloud:

  "Motor Matt and Ensign John Henry Glennie, U. S. N., will reach Para in submarine _Grampus_. Glennie carries dispatches for you. Read them, and see that both Matt and Glennie understand them thoroughly."

  "Nice, long message, eh?" queried Brigham, slapping Glennie on theback. "Plenty of useless words, but what does the captain of the_Seminole_ care? Uncle Sam stands the cable toll, and, besides, ongrave matters it is well to be explicit. Hang a few extra dollars,anyway. Where's the dispatches?"

  Glennie imagined how he would have felt if he had been obliged toreport, in view of that cablegram, that his dispatches had been lostand not recovered.

  "I want to tell you somethin
g about those dispatches before you readthem, Mr. Brigham," said the ensign.

  "Well, sit down, my lads. What's the good word, ensign?"

  Thereupon Glennie told the whole story connected with the loss of thedispatches and their final recovery. Everything went in, and a halfhour was consumed in the telling. More than once Brigham whistled andpuckered his brows ominously. But he was absorbed in the narrative.When it was done, he reached his hand toward Matt.

  "Pardon me, youngster," said he, "but I never miss a chance to shakehands with a live one. Possibly it's because I've lived so long in thisdead place, where you can't turn around without having some sluggardtell you 'ma?ana.' You're the clear quill, and I'll gamble you'll getalong. If I was younger, blamed if I wouldn't like to trot a heat withyou myself. Put 'er there!"

  Matt, flushing under the compliment given him by the consul, allowedhis hand to be wrung cordially.

  "Now," said Brigham, "look out of the windows at the beautiful palmswhile I go through these papers."

  The consul was all of half an hour getting the gist of his dispatches.

  "I'm ready for you two lads," he presently called.

  Matt and Glennie returned to the chairs they had previously occupied.They were surprised at the change that had come over Mr. Brigham'sface. On their arrival, it had been bright and smiling, while now itwas dark and foreboding.

  "I guess you lads know how it feels to be in the jaws of death, andjust slip out before they close," said he, "but you don't know thewhole of it, not by a jugful. Of all the high-handed proceedings I everheard of, this certainly grabs the banner. Now, listen."

 

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